Page 39 of Sweet Surrender

“Yes.” I smile. “You do. Because we both know that we’re standing here thinking about the kiss while knowing the only reason we are is because of the poignancy of the moment. You don’t like women like me, and I just broke up with someone after two years so sure, it was a great kiss, but the moment surrounding it elevated it.”

“Cookie, no amount of talk is going to dampen my ego. That was a damn good kiss and you and I both know it.”

I step back from him, needing to break from his compelling charm. “I can admit it. Easily.”

He eyes me as I move about the suite. “What are you doing?” he asks.

“Getting changed.” Anything to change the subject and make me stop thinking about your lips and how soft they are.

“For?”

“Well, I can’t exactly wear this wedding dress on the plane. I’m sure your stylist would prefer it back sooner rather than later.”

“Huh.” I can sense his displeasure.

I reach back to unclasp the necklace but struggle with it. “Jase? Can you help me with this? I’m sure the jeweler you got this on loan from will need this back as well.”

“On loan from?” he asks as I glance over to him.

His jacket is off now, his hands are shoved in his pockets as he rests his shoulder against the wall, but it’s the muscle ticking in his jaw that catches my eye.

“Yes. Isn’t that how this all works?” I look around but don’t see it. “Did whoever move our stuff bring the box up here?”

“That’s not how I roll, Hendrix.”

“Meaning?”

“When I give gifts, I don’t get them on loan from the jeweler, and I sure as shit don’t want them back.”

Oh. Oh. He bought this for me? “But I was under the impression—I thought it was—”

“It’s for you. I saw it and was smitten with it.” His smile is tight but his eyes soften. “It suits you.”

I gulp as my fingers worry over it. This cost a ton of money. I know it had to. “I . . . I can’t accept this.”

“You did. You will.” He moves over to me and studies it for a beat before surprising me and pressing a chaste kiss on my lips. “Now, are we ready to see what the night will bring?”

“What? I thought we were leaving—”

“I know this is fake, but I celebrate all firsts in life. You never get them back so my theory is you better damn well remember them.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning the night is yours. What do you want to do? Have a nice dinner? Eat sushi on a rooftop? Go to a club? Party? Sleep? You tell me, and we’ll do it.” He holds his hands out toward the windows and the sparkling lights beyond. “The city is yours.”

He looks back over his shoulder at me, his grin wide, and I know I’m in serious trouble.

I may have made all kinds of promises to myself, so what is it about him that makes me want to break every single one of them?

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Gizmo

My head pounds like a fucking beat I’d never drum.

At least I’d have enough sense not to when the tequila is still wearing off—or maybe still wreaking havoc on my system.

I go to scrub a hand over my face, and the titanium of my wedding band hits me squarely on the brow bone. Talk about being smacked in the face with the cold, hard truth of yesterday.